


You Taste Like Winning

by romanticcomedies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, X Factor Finale, mr kissys and mr cuddles, x factor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 08:44:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16829092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticcomedies/pseuds/romanticcomedies
Summary: louis comes home to harry after the x-factor finale





	You Taste Like Winning

Harry buried his face in ebony curls, rubbing his cheeks against Clifford’s soft fur and sighing in content. The calming gesture was an attempt at quelling the feeling that had been stirring at the bottom of his belly—he’d caught himself grinning with every passing second, dimples deep into his cheeks.

He closed his eyes, feeling a sleepiness fight its way through the feeling, piercing through the bleary clouds that had encompassed all his excitement throughout the night. Though images of confetti fluttering down the stage was flashing behind his eyelids, everything outside seemed reasonably quiet.

There was that clock ticking rhythmically with his heartbeat, the same one that Louis had been so insisted on buying a few months back simply because Harry had casually commented on how he loved the details of it. He still did, despite the “outrageously loud” sound in each tick.

There was drip of faucet water from the kitchen, which was usually something that drove Harry mad enough to snap himself out of whatever feeling of comfort and go to tighten it, but Clifford being warm and sleepy upon his lap seemed to be the only exception.

His phone vibrated on the table in front of him, the sound making him snap out of his trance with bleary eyes. He reached for it, quickly checking the notification. Just like that, all the sleep stripped from his eyes and was replaced by a swell of his heart.

Harry should be embarrassed.

He’s been told, and he’s quite well aware of how embarrassed he should be at still reacting like a lovesick teenager when he simply receives a text from Louis by this point. In fact, when he realizes how embarrassing that is sometimes, his cheeks even have the audacity to burn up and that is simply unrealistic.

But that’s just how it’s always been between them; it’s something that’s a bit different from any other average and individual reality, like it’s sweeter enough to notice.

be there in a few babe. X

Harry smiles, types a quick reply and then locks his phone. He reaches over to the mess of curls that has gracefully draped himself across his lap, and scratches behind his ears.

“Cliff,” He whispers. “C’mon, buddy.”

Clifford, the precious creature, wiggles his way across Harry’s lap to the spot next to him upon the sofa, curling in on himself. Harry stretches his arms and stands up, tugging down his sweater lightly before walking towards the kitchen and putting on the kettle. For a few moments, Harry hovers his chilled fingers near the low fire and rubs them together.

While he retrieves the tea, he notices Louis’ handwriting, rushed and scattered across a slightly crinkled page. It’s full of notes, all relating to the show with comments underneath the underlined name of his group. Harry picks it up for a bit, finding himself smiling at the fading pen scrawled across paper.

He won again. His boy won again.

Harry remembers when the X Factor deal was first created, and how he’d seen Louis gazing off into a corner of the room, chewing at his fingernails. Thoughts were encumbering his mind until Harry could practically feel the anxiety radiating off of him. There was nervousness in his walk, clearly concerned about the path this was taking despite being assured of what he’d gain from it. 

After all, it wasn’t uncommon for them to get screwed over.

Harry had walked over, gathered him in his arms and held him until every ounce of nerves faded away. Swaying in the kitchen light, he’d whispered in Louis’ ears everything that dismissed his restlessness, listening to all his concerns. Harry had given him comforting kisses along his jawline to which Louis giggled quietly to, before pressing his lips against Louis’ hard enough to make each doubt wither in his brilliant, brilliant mind.

Neither of them were surprised at the way upon which Louis had turned the situation around completely. Taking something that was once believed to be a blunder or an obstacle, and delivering a performance that left in the world falling in love with him once more, all while giving the boy’s a chance.

Harry caught himself smiling hard enough that it spread across the span of his face and tea hanging from limp hands. He felt almost weightless with a rush of excitement flooding his veins and making his eyes focus the counter before him as he allowed himself to fall in awe and surrounded with pride at the mere thought of his boy winning again.

Gold, that boy of yours, he was once told. Gold.

The door opened.

It startled him enough to almost drop the tea. Perhaps he had already dropped it, but Harry didn’t care to spend the few seconds to realize. He heard the sound of Clifford’s eager bark, a sweet huff of laughter and then what sounded like a five foot eight (“five foot nine, Harold.”) human being attacked by an enormous dog.

The grin on Harry’s face widened, if that was possible, and he practically withheld every urge in his body that screamed at him to imitate Clifford’s kind gestures. Instead, he slowly walked around what certainly was now a pile of tea on the floor and started a slow clap. He could almost hear Louis’ giggles fade into a smirk from the living room, and was proved correct when Harry turned the corner enough to lean on the doorway.

Beat.

It was embarrassing once more, but entirely in Harry Styles’ character to abandon all acts immediately upon seeing Louis. He was leaning down, hands full with a passionate Clifford and looking up at Harry—all side swept fringe with a knowing glint in his eyes.

One moment, he was leaning against the kitchen doorway and the next he had taken a few, rushed long strides towards Louis, completely baralleing into him in a tangle of limbs. He wrapped his arms tightly around his neck, the other man’s laughter muffled in Harry’s neck, shoulder and chest. Harry felt his chest ache with the warmth of Louis’ body and the familiar figure of him that made him feel so much at once.

“Harold, let me just—” Louis tried, but Harry chose it as the perfect moment to press feathery kisses across his neck, actions completely merciless to Louis’ squawking when his chest felt flooded with pride.

He trailed the drag of his lips up at the junction of his jawbone, kisses growing warmer and open mouthed before they settled below the beat of Louis’ pulse. Louis exhaled out a few shaky breaths, giggles instantly quieting and wrapping his arms tightly around Harry. He gave an aimless kick at the door behind him, hands settling snug at the curve of his waist.

Harry gave into the feel of it thumping beneath his lips, swiping his tongue lightly across the skin and relishing in the warm taste of him. Louis breathed out a quiet sound involuntarily, letting his own lips press against Harry’s exposed shoulder from the slipping sweater. Harry allowed his mouth to slip from the blooming red above Louis’ pulse point and rested his head sideways on his arms that stayed wrapped around his neck.

Moments like this were overwhelming for both of them. Quiet, but times where they felt the same feelings entangled around the same thoughts in one single moment. The atmosphere felt delicate and sweet, an acknowledgement of how linked they were always as prominent as the beat of their own hearts.

“I wanted to give them a chance,” Louis whispered. “And he did so well with it.”

Harry took Louis off guard by resuming his attack of kisses across Louis’ cheeks, each delivered with an exaggerated ‘mwah’ and compliments said between them that threw his boy back into a fit of squeals.

“You impeccable,” A kiss to his nose. “Unbelievably talented,” A kiss to the place between his eyebrows. “Virtuous, beautiful,” A kiss to his forehead and one pressed onto a blushing cheek. “Flawless—“

“Wow,” Louis said, giddy in his spot.

“—gifted human being,” Harry finished, allowing Louis to push him towards the sofa until they both fell upon it, instantly arranging themselves into a fitting arrangement of limbs. “I’m so proud of you, Lou.”

He could feel Louis’ smile pressed into his chest, and held his breath as Louis raised his face, shuffling a bit to become face to face with Harry. They could feel themselves drowning in the pride that decorated the colors of their eyes, teeth helplessly biting at rosy lips at helpless attempts to control their smiles.

“I could say I don’t believe it, but I do,” Louis said, fingers raking through Harry’s growing locks. “I’m so—I don’t even think I’m processing it completely, I mean—he did incredible and I could just feel it, you know?”

Harry nods in agreement as Louis drifts off, shaking his head in amazement with a single incredulous laugh escaping him. He focuses on the fabric of the furniture above Harry’s head, before returning the blue gaze back at his eyes and letting them lock in place once more.

“He had you, baby,” Harry said, leaning down to quickly press his lips against Louis’. “He has some serious talent, but I think it’s equally important that he had you. I didn’t doubt it for a second, but when I say I literally lost my shit when he won.”

“Did you see me?” Louis said, laughing and propping himself on an elbow. “I didn’t even know what to do with myself for a second, to be honest.”

“’Was watching you the whole time,” Harry said, voice going softer. “Wouldn’t let myself proper celebrate because I was too focused on you.”

The way Louis groans at his comment all exaggerated makes him giggle and melt into him further, but the specialty of moments like these is the way Louis tries to swiftly hide his growing smile or attempt at ignoring the rising blush dusting his cheekbones. He finds himself laughing even more when Louis practically drapes himself over Harry and kisses him hard enough to bruise their lips in the process. 

Harry’s laughter fades into a smile and then simmers away when Louis tilts his head, slotting their lips perfectly against one another. The warm, slightly wet slide of tongue and the light scrape of teeth against lips is enough to get them arching into one another, breathing growing heavy.

“You’re incredible,” Harry said in between, barely finishing the sentence before he pushes his mouth back onto Louis’. Harry finds himself lazily wrapping his legs around Louis’ as he whispers how proud he into his boyfriend’s lips. “You never cease to amaze me, Lou.”

Louis pulls back only to strip the remaining breath in Harry’s lungs out from him by looking at him in the eyes. There’s a certain look, the same one that makes Harry’s teeth feel too sweet and his heart feel to heavy, glimmering in Louis’ eyes. He wishes he could drown in that simple stare, perhaps wrap himself in it and not care about anything else beyond that endless blue.

“I love you,” 

Harry’s heard him say it a million times before in myriads of different ways but somehow delivering a soft pang to his heart each time that settles in him slowly. His hands feel restless, fingers burning without the feel of Louis’ skin as he reaches out to wrap his arms tighter around his boy.

“I love you.”

And then, Louis mouth returns on his, their bodies slotted together comfortably. Harry has a thousand things to whisper into Louis’ skin, the latter having much to speak of, but it feels like home, a feeling that they simply will never get tired of despite being exhausted otherwise. For a few blissful moments the only sound is an obnoxious tap of faucet water, the epitome of Louis’ stubbornness in ticking clock form, and the wet sounds of eager kisses until Louis himself oddly interrupts the precious—the perfect—moment, earning a justified pout from Harry himself.

“Babe, did you forget the kettle again?”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“Shit.”

The sweet silence (and perhaps cheesy, romantic violin playing in Harry’s mind) obliterated by the sound of a nearly burning, mocking kettle crying out in the kitchen. He tried to maneuver his legs, springing off the sofa and dashing towards the door, but ended up ripping once and nearly falling the next second.

Louis watched him, clutching his belly in laughter at the sight of his boyfriend helpless attempts in getting his gangly limbs to work.

**Author's Note:**

> adkldjl this was my first fic for these two and of course it'd unrevised and of course i'm half asleep. i know this isn't great, but i've been finding every excuse to write for them so louis winning the finale was perfect for me to write about how i imagine it went after louis went home. thanks dads for existing and congrats louis for making the world fall in love w you again. also, i hate titles. goodnite ! x


End file.
